


Oysters in the Park

by wobblebobble



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23514991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wobblebobble/pseuds/wobblebobble
Summary: They get drunk and go for a walk, and Aziraphale finally talks.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Oysters in the Park

“Aziraphale, I’m bored,” Crowley drawled from the couch. He flipped upside down and dangled his head above the floor, feet in the air. Aziraphale looked up from his chair where he was reading.  
“It’s been three days,” Aziraphale said exasperatedly. “You’ve stayed inside for more than three days at a time simply because you wanted to before.”  
“I know. But this time feels different because I can’t go out. I can’t think of anything to do. I’m restless. I can’t sit here any longer watching TV. I tried napping. I yelled at my plants. I’ve been on my phone. I can’t focus enough to read a book. I actually tried to read, Aziraphale. That’s how bored I am.” Crowley twisted upright again to look at Aziraphale, kneeling on the cushions. “We aren’t even going to get sick! Let’s go out to dinner. Let’s go laser tagging. Anything. I can’t be here anymore.”  
Aziraphale tried not to feel hurt. “I know dear, and I’m sorry. But everything is closed anyways. How about some wine?”  
“Sure. Anything. Let’s get drunk.” Crowley rolled off the couch and went over to his extensive wine collection. “What do you want?”  
Aziraphale got out the wine glasses. “Ooh, a nice merlot sounds wonderful. Whatever you’re in the mood for.”  
They sat down on the couch and got comfortable. Crowley tipped over into Aziraphale’s lap and Aziraphale rubbed his back.  
“Come on dear, we’re finally together. We have all this time. Let’s talk.” And they did. They talked for hours; they talked all night, progressively getting more and more drunk, and consequently more honest. Even supernatural entities are affected by alcohol. After a while though, Crowley stopped drinking. He pretended to drink, but immediately sent the wine back to the bottle. He wanted to remember what Aziraphale was saying.  
“I’m glad I don’t hafta to open my shop for once. I feel a little, a little, a little... bad about that. But I get so ssssick of it some days! I just want to spend that time with you, not pushing customers away.” Aziraphale tried to refill his glass, missing completely. Crowley cleaned it up with a wave of his hand. “Oh, I know, let’s go for a walk.” Aziraphale said. “Come on, there’s no one out. No one will see us.” He stood up and almost fell over. “Oh, bugger.”  
Crowley tried not to laugh. “Aziraphale...sit down. You can barely stand. At least sober up first.” The angel stumbled across the room until Crowley stood up and caught him.  
“Stop,” Crowley said. “We’ll go for a walk, just sober up. At least enough that you can walk straight.” He suppressed a chuckle.  
Aziraphale complied and Crowley opened his door. They went down the elevator in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. There was no pressure to fill it. They went through the front doors of the apartment complex and stepped into the empty Soho streets. The feeling of the street at two o’clock in the morning was significantly different than during the day: no bad smells, no constant press of people all around, no one watching them. Not that anyone really noticed them during the day; after all, suspicion slid off of them like...well, like how water slides off ducks. It’s just that at night, there was no one around to see them. No one at all.  
They wandered the streets hand in hand, slowly, taking it all in - the cold, fresh air, the silence, the solitude. With each other, they were never lonely, even when they weren’t together. But they mostly were together. Crowley had even brought up the thought of them moving to a nice cottage in the South Downs, where it was quiet and peaceful all the time. And they could have a nice garden and a big room just for reading. Aziraphale agreed excitedly, and every ad section in the newspapers since then had many circles in it.  
They walked for what felt like hours. Aziraphale talked and talked and talked, and Crowley nodded and responded when Aziraphale took a breath. He was listening to every word. Aziraphale was just...talking. Everything he had wanted to say for six thousand years. His plan had been to be a gentleman and take Crowley on dates and shower him with gifts and flowers, but he couldn’t wait any longer. Especially when no one, no one at all, was around to hear. Aziraphale talked and Crowley listened. He listened harder than he had ever listened before.  
Eventually they ended up at St. James’s Park. They sat down on the lawn, still hand in hand, and suddenly a picnic was there. Aziraphale had miracled up a whole picnic at three o’clock in the morning.  
“Let there be light,” he said almost absentmindedly, and a spotlight appeared. Not a soul around except them; they were just eating and talking.  
Oysters. Of course it was oysters. Crowley ate them slowly, savoring the moment for once and not inhaling his food. Aziraphale was eating even slower than usual, if possible. He finally stopped talking and looked at Crowley.  
“Well, dear, that was a bit uncalled for. I’m sorry. I talked for almost an hour straight. I’m sorry.” He glanced over at Crowley apologetically.  
“Oh, Aziraphale, don’t. Don’t apologize. It’s okay. It’s okay, shhh.” He saw a few tears fall down Aziraphale’s cheeks. Crowley pulled him close and hugged him, and Aziraphale buried his face in Crowley’s shoulder. Aziraphale turned the light off.  
“I just wanted...I just wanted to say…” Aziraphale took a deep breath between tears. “I wanted to say it all…” he paused, barely able to allow the words to come out of his mouth. “Just in case,” he whispered, silent tears streaming down his face and into Crowley’s shirt.  
“Oh, for someone’s sake, angel, it’s okay. It’ll be okay. We’re here now, together.” Crowley was trying to reassure Aziraphale, but deep down he felt the same way. He was reassuring both of them. “Come on, take a deep breath. In, out.”  
They breathed together for a few moments, in the dark. Eventually Aziraphale gently pulled away and Crowley sat back a little.  
“Are we really going to be okay?” Aziraphale asked softly.  
“Of course, angel. I have you. We’re finally together. We can do whatever we want.”  
“Let’s go to the South Downs. It’s wonderful there.”  
“Let’s,” Crowley agreed. “I think I know just the spot. It has miraculously just gone up for sale.”  
Aziraphale laughed softly. “Alright. Alright, alright. It’ll be okay. Let’s do that. I don't really want to stay here much longer anyways. You know, memories.” He waved his hand around absentmindedly and started packing up the picnic basket. Crowley stood up and folded up the blanket.  
“Let’s go home, angel. One more night, and then something new. We’ll be okay.” He looked over at Aziraphale. “I love you.”  
Aziraphale inhaled deeply and looked back at him. “I know, dear. I love you too.” They walked back to the bookshop, hand in hand, smiling the whole way home.

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading, i’m on tumblr at rocklobstering if you wanna see me over there!


End file.
